


Heartstring Orchestra

by flakypie



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Enoch is a fucking slob, F/M, Not Caring, Self-Insert, angstttttt, fucking shit up, love/hate relationship b/c its enoch, maybe bad smut?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flakypie/pseuds/flakypie
Summary: -BIG BOOK 3 SPOILERS (and slight book 4/5 ones)-At first, you thought he was an angel, sent to free you from the clutches of the demons chasing you. You quickly learnt otherwise.We are rewriting book 4, basically. Much more badly written, though. I don't have the godlike skills of Ransom Riggs.It's after book 3, and Enoch finds you hiding from a gang in America.He takes you home; well, to Jacob's house. And events ensue.No clue abt length or stuff on this one.Second person, might change depending on feedback or my whims : P
Relationships: Enoch O'Connor/Reader
Kudos: 19





	1. Sheet Metal Splinters

You are running. You've run many times before, from so many different things you've lost track of the weeks and the line differentiating reality and the inky blackness of sleep is starting to blur. 

They were still chasing you. You winced as the telekenetic boy grazed your cheek with some scrap metal lying in the junk heaps either side of the road. This was getting frustrating. You were tired, sweaty, hurt, and just about ready to pass out. Just as you thought of giving up, a burst of adrenalyne kicked in, and you ran a little bit faster. But a little bit might be enough. Suddenly, escaping from the thick gray tendrils of mist, a banged up car, crashed into the people that had been chasing you for so long you were starting to forget how good it felt to breathe again. Could problems really be solved this instantaneously? Not even a second, and you could stop running. It was a good thing, too, because at that very moment that the strange people in the trashed car were opening the doors, your brain decided now was a good time to pass out.

______________________________________

You woke up, not with a jerk as you did in the months before, but in a comfortable bed to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. It was this moment that was your principal "where the fuck am I" realization, and you inched out of bed with a stealthiness only eight hours of sleep could bring. After inching laboriously over the floorboards, the door swung gracefully open to reveal a woman in what looked like a vintage dress a headmistress might wear. Her eyes had a glint of steely determination, but under that you sa sympathy for your plight.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you Miss..." you immediately notice she has a British accent.

"Y/N."

"Miss Y/N. My name is Ms. Peregrine. I hope you don't mind that we moved you here, but I'm afraid under the circumstances, it's all we could do."

"Where am I?"

"You're in a suburb in Florida."

"Florida?"

"Yes. I expect you must be very confused. If you'll come down for breakfast then we can get everything sorted."

You weigh your options carefully. On the one hand, this woman is strange and could be hiding some malicious intent. On the other, you're starving and nothing has ever smelled so good, so you follow her. 

Downstairs, a spectacle awaits you. You walk down a flight of stairs into a large, light filled living room, where you see several children and teenagers lounging around on couches in the same vintage clothing, in various states of disrepair. The only person that looks relatively normal is a boy reclining on a couch next to a pretty blonde girl, eating what appears to be a full english breakfast. You realise that as much as you're staring at them, they're staring at you, and it makes you more uncomfortable than you'd like to admit. Ms. Peregrine leads you through the living room to the kitchen, where a boy in a suit and monocle is doing the dishes.

"Horace."

"Yes, Ms. Peregrine." it appears Horace has the same accent as Ms. Peregrine, you note. Could all of these kids be her children? She looks so young, you note. Far too young to mother any teenager. You dissmiss your thoughts as you smell delicious food wafting up from the counters.

"Please fetch our guest some food."

"Of course!" he says with a smile on his face. "Continental today." He dishes out a plate of eggs, bacon, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, and mushrooms. "Shame they don't have any black pudding here though."

You can hear groans from the next room. He frowns, hands you the plate, and then leaves the kitchen, presumably to join the others.

Ms. Peregrine notices the speed at which you're shoveling food in your mouth and decides to wait a bit before telling you whatever she has to tell you. You can't help but feel the prick of stares watching you through the door, mingling excitement and curiosity. Whatever happens next, you have a gut feeling: things are about to get interesting


	2. Bacon and Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You eat breakfast, Ms. P does things, you meet your peculiar peeps.

You finish your breakfast quickly, and you're pretty sure no food in the history of food had ever tasted better.

"I see you've finished eating. I take it you would like some answers."

You nod your head.

"Well, Miss Y/N, if I'm correct, and I believe I am, then you are what we like to call peculiar."

"Is that some sort of strange insult?"you can hear giggling and laughter behind you form the living room.

"On the contrary. It means that you have a special ability, perhaps one you've had to hide."

Memories flash through your head, running, hiding, pain.

You nod your head again, reluctantly.

"Well, Miss Y/N, you've come to the right place. Follow me, please." She says it with an air of brisk authority, a tone that seems well practiced.

"These are the children. Children, this is Y/N."

The array of kids all respond with enthusiastic waves and bright smiles, except for one in the far corner, wearing suspenders and fidgeting with something in his hands.

"Enoch."

"What?"

"Please treat our guest with some respect, please."

"Hi." Ms. Peregrine looks annoyed, but appears to overlook it.

"Now, children, Miss Y/N is a bit... green to the peculiar world. So perhaps you might demonstrate..."

Suddenly, the air starts talking, and you flinch a little. (a lot)

"Hello, Millard Nullings here, invisible cartographer and bibliophile."

You wave in the general direction of the voice semi-awkwardly.

Then, a girl on the couch with some very heavy looking shoes says"Hi, I'm Olive, and I can float." 

"I'm Horace, and I have prophetic dreams."

"I'm Claire, and I have a backmouth."

You were about to ask her what a backmouth was when another child spoke up.

"I'm Bronwyn, and I'm strong." She said, taking Olive off the couch next to her and picking her up with one hand.

"I'm Emma, and I can burn things." You notice the fire on her pinky, and the fact her arm nudges the normal boy next to her.

"Do I really have to go?"he says, which provokes another elbow jab from the girl next to him.

"Uh, I'm Jacob, and I can see hollows."

Ms. Peregrine gives a nod to the boy called Enoch, and before you can ask what a hollow is, a thing lurches out from his hands heading straight at you...

You reflexively shoot your hand out and you can feel your eyes starting to glow, your feet rising from the floor, and the convulsions begin to shake your body. You barely have time to think "I'm definitely over reacting to this" before a pulsing, bright beam of electricity shoots out of your hand with deadly accuracy, disintegrating the small object flying at you instantly and putting a hole through the wall just above Enoch's head.

You feel the normal effects of a wind down, your eyes cool, your feet touch the ground, and the awed stares of the people around you.

"Sorry about the wall."

Ms. Peregrine looks rather shocked, but quickly brushes it off.

“It’s quite alright. Well, any questions?” Your mind is swimming with them, you don’t know where to start.

“Um, what the hell was that  _ thing? _ ” you say, shooting a glare at Enoch. The room is silent, as if “hell” was suddenly the worst profanity imaginable.

Much to your surprise, Enoch responds. 

“That  _ thing  _ was a homunculus figure.”

“And you seriously expect me to know what that means?” 

The room is silent as you glare at each other for a few seconds.

Ms. Peregrine finally break the silence. “Enoch is a dead-raiser. He can take a heart, put it in an object, and make it come to life. That  _ thing _ , as you call it, was little more than clay and a pickled heart.”

“Enoch, apologize” Bronwyn says.

“Why, not like I’ve done anything.” he responds, glowering at you.

“I agree with Bronwyn, Enoch what you did was mean.” Olive crosses her arms and sticks her tongue out at Enoch.

Ms. Peregrine interjects before Enoch can come up with a retort. “Children, let’s try to get along, shall we? Mr. O’Connor, will you show Y/N to her room?”

“Are you punishing me?” Enoch says, standing up reluctantly.

“On the contrary. I am simply asking you to escort Y/N to her room so she can freshen up. After that, Jacob is taking some of the children shopping, if you’re interested, Miss Y/N.”

“Thanks. But I don’t have any money.”

“You’re one of us now, dear. Everything will be taken care of. That is, if you’re interested in staying.” It would be nice to stop running, you think. Ms. Peregrine  _ seems _ genuine, at least. 

And even if you had to start hiding again, it would be nice to wait a few days.

So you nod, having this feeling that things will change forever. Hopefully for the better.


	3. Heavy Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit o plot and quite a lot of smut.

Enoch O’Connor might’ve been the most angry person to exist on the face of the planet. Was the thought of walking up a flight of stairs with you really so appalling?

“Hey.”

“What.” Well, getting off to a great start.

You stop for a moment. “Can we call a truce?” He stops and turns around to look at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“Well it’s obvious neither of us have made a very good impression.” he snorts indignantly, and you can’t muffle the little voice in the back of your head that thought it was a little cute.

“I’d say so. You bloody incinerated a perfectly good cat heart.” your voices are raising in unison, now, and Enoch takes a step down to poke a finger at you in an accusatory manner.

“Oh, like some stupid fucking cat heart is that big of a deal.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving.” and much to your happiness, he storms up the stairs and slams the door to what you assume is his room. 

You take a shower, but the clean feeling you get is ruined when you put on your old clothes and go join Jacob and the others downstairs. You still haven’t gotten used to their stares whenever they think you aren’t looking. You’re not sure if they’re excited to see you or scared of your powers. Or “peculiarity”, as Ms. Peregrine corrected. 

Ms. Peregrine picks the kids going first to the mall and much to your dismay, Enoch is going. You, Enoch, Jacob, Bronwyn, and Emma pile in to the cramped car.

“You’re crushing my arm.” Enoch complains

“Well unless you plan on riding in the trunk, we’re just about out of options. I don’t like this any more than you do.”

“It’s called a boot, love.” Bronwyn cheerily points out.

Enoch grunts and pulls his arm out from between you and up over your shoulder. You give him a look.

“What?”

You stretch one of his suspenders as far as you can and let go. It snaps satisfyingly, and the arm quickly returns from where it came from.

“You’re bloody mental.” Bronwyn frowns, but decides not to say anything.

“I know.” and whether is was a hallucination or a trick of the light, for a split second, you thought you actually saw Enoch O’Connor smile. 

____________________________time skip___________________________

It had been two weeks, and you knew everyone enough to know when someone was acting weird. And Horace had definitely been acting weird. 

After they got over the initial shock of having someone new, it was as if you’d been there for months. You were closest to Jacob, because he understood you the most, being from your same time. There were things about finding out you were peculiar Jacob understood and the others didn’t. 

Aside from Hugh, who you rarely saw, Enoch was the recluse of the group. Almost everyone shared a bedroom,(or a couch) but Enoch’s bedroom (and the adjoining bathroom, where he kept his hearts) were for Enoch alone. 

Enoch confused you. One day, he’d invite you in to watch homunculi fight and watch him bring things to life. The next, he wouldn’t talk to you and would immediately storm off. 

So when Horace started turning red whenever he saw you and avoiding you, it was the last straw. You finally found him, in the kitchen, talking to Millard.

“Millard, can I talk to Horace, please?” Horace paled a little, but had the grace, etiquette, and common sense to stay put. 

The hat on Millard’s head moved up and down, and he walked off to go find Olive. 

“ Hi. Sorry to bother, I’ll get straight to the point. What’s going on? Did I do something to offend you?”

Horace looked at the floor, and some color began to return to his face. 

“No, nothing like that.”

“Well, what is it then? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“It’s not just you I’ve been avoiding.”

“Ha! So you admit it.”

“Well, yes, but I have good reason.”

“Well?”

“I-I had a dream.”

“So?”

“You were in it. And… Enoch was in it too.”

“Really? What was it about?”

“Well, um, to be frank, you were snogging.” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Kissing? Enoch? How could those two things ever belong in the same sentence? I mean, it wasn’t like Enoch was unattractive by any means. It just seemed like he only tolerated you because he had to. 

“You do remember my dreams are prophetic?”

“Not ALL of them, right?”

“Well yes, but I’m fairly certain…” he starts turning red again.

“Well then. Thanks for telling me.”

“Y/N…”

“Yea?”

“One last thing. Enoch knows too.” 

“Um, ok. Thanks. I should go, I said I’d work on controlling my peculiarity with Emma and Jake.”

“Ok. Bye.”

You walked through the house to the back garden, where Jake was waiting. Ever since you’d confided in Ms. Peregrine that you couldn’t really control your peculiarity, she’d suggested you work with Emma, who had similar issues at first. Of course, Emma and Jacob were practically inseperable, which meant that you tended to spend a lot of time with the both of them. 

“Emma will be here in a minute.”

“Ok.”

You caught something moving in the downstairs window, and as you turned you realised it was Enoch, staring moodily at you and Jake.

“What’s his problem?”

“No clue.”

Suddenly, Emma appears from within the house and beams.

"Sorry I'm late."

"It's fine, I've been here for like 30 seconds" you reply.

"Shall we?"

"Yeah." You focus on your hands, aiming them at the ground, and concentrate. You feel a spark escape your index finger, which is met with loud cheers from your spectators. You focus more, and you feel the familiar warmth pulse behind your eyes. The spark starts to amplify, and your feet raise a centimetre off the ground. You open your eyes, try to direct your energy beam towards the ground, but the glow fizzles out and you slump to the ground.

"You got a lot closer this time!" Emma says encouragingly.

"Yeah, but I still couldn't do it." 

"Well, let's keep trying and if it doesn't work, we can always try again tomorrow."

It didn't work.

You go up to your room, mumbling pessimistically  
under your breath. You swing open the door to reveal Enoch, lounging on your bed, wearing black jeans and a dark blue t shirt that you're 80 percent sure is too big for him.

"Why are you here, Enoch."

"Free country, innit?"

"You do realise this isn't your room?"

"You do realise that's the fucking point?"

"You wouldn't talk like that if Ms. Peregrine was here."

He gets up off your bed and takes a step towards you.  
"Well she's not bloody here, is she?" You take a step back and realise there's only wall behind you.

"Obviously. So why are you here, again?"

"Cause I felt like it, that's why." He takes another little step towards you.

"Really, Enoch, I can't be bothered to ask you the million ways Jacob supposedly screwed up your life." You can tell he's a little hurt by that, but he still takes another step closer.

"Hogging you, for one."  
He slams his hand to the wall above your shoulder, towering above you, and you'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't working overtime.

"What's that supposed to mean? Besides, I can spend my time with who I like to." You wonder if you hid the nervousness in your voice well enough.

"What's wrong? Jacob isn't here to save you?" he smirks, and you try and repress the blush creeping up on your face.

"You're avoiding the question." 

"I think you know perfectly well what I mean."A grin spreads across his face. "Fated or some rubbish like that.?"

"I hate you", you breathe, semi-conscious of the miniscule amount of space between you.

"Hate you too, love."he growls. You can feel his breath on your face, warm and heavy, and somehow the gap between your lips closes.

Let it never be said that Enoch O'Connor was ever a bad kisser. 

Your bodies were pressed together, his leg between yours, your hands tangled in his hair. His left hand moved under the fabric of your shirt, and combined with the rush of cold air you shivered. His hand glided up your back, and came to rest on the hook of your bra, which he undid hastily. His hand moved to your breast, and you began to notice a pressure against your thigh. He squeezed your breast, and in that moment you were thankful you were kissing him because otherwise someone might've heard the sound it elicited. Feeling adventurous, you took your hands down to Enoch's jeans, undoing the button and exposing a pair of dark gray boxers you were pretty sure came from the the 40's. You slipped your hand inside and grabbed his dick, and Enoch let out a moan so loud you started wondering about the thickness of the walls. You started pumping his dick, going just fast enough to tease him into wanting more. He pulled your nipple in response, sending electric bolts of pleasure down your spine. You pumped harder, making him groan loudly, and his hand snaked its way down into your pants. You tightened your grip a bit, trying to one-up him every chance you got. He chuckled when he got to your underwear and pulled away from your mouth. You stop for a moment, confused.

"You're fucking soaked."he whispers, a smirk on his face.

You pulled on his dick harshly in reply, and he jolts into you impulsively.

"Fuck, Y/N!" Someone. Definitely. Heard that. 

"There are other people besides us in this house, you know." you whisper.

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you touch my fucking-"  
he bites down on his lip in response to your tug.

"I think I've just found a very useful way to shut you up."

"Wha-" and you push his lips back on to yours with your free hand, effectively silencing him.

He seems about to protest, but decided to return to the task at hand, which happens to be your underwear. He pulls aside the fabric and shoves two of his fingers in, making you convulse in a mixture of pleasure and pain. All that comes out of your mouth is "mmm!"which he takes as a good sign, so he starts moving his fingers in and out slowly, going just fast enough to tease you. You mirror his behaviour, and after a minute of teasing each other any way you can he finally gives in, and so do you. He starts moving faster, sending miniature earthquakes through you each time he moves. Evidently all the work he did with homonculous figures meant his hands were magic. For a while, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breathing and the occasional groan of pleasure, both of you ramping up the speed, seeing who will succumb first. Just when you think you can't take any more, he comes, coating your hand and the inside of his boxers with a sticky white fluid. Then it's your turn, and the waves of pleasure course through you, escalating each passing second. Finally, your lips part, and he backs away, removing his hands and gasping for breath. It's silent for a while. 

"Wow."you say.

"Yea." Suddenly, a realisation dawns on him.

"What am I gonna do about these bloody boxers?"

You shrug, and he scowls. Clearly, nothing's changed.   
"Try washing them, maybe." He gives you a look. 

"I guess I should go, then. Before someone sees us together."

"Because God forbid Enoch O'Connor be caught exiting a girl's room." He flushes. 

"It's not just ... We were kinda... Loud." 

"Exactly. So let's pretend I borrowed a book, you came to come get it, and you stubbed your toe or something." He grins.

"We did a lot more than toe stubbing."

"Yes, but no one needs to know that." He looks a bit shocked, as if he had expected to be able tell the whole world after this.

"Ok." He leaves the room, leaving you to wonder just how much Horace saw.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party, Enoch, events ensue. Slight reader X Jacob if ya squint.
> 
> Edit: Ok, I finally fixed the formatting error. Don't hate me, please.

Three days. Three days, and he'd said NOTHING.

You'd only seen him at mealtimes and when you were both required to be in the same room. Occasionally, you'd catch him glowering at you. So when Ms. Peregrine announced that everyone would have to go shopping because Jacob was taking the older kids to a normal party, you took the opportunity as a way to pester Enoch. Was it passive aggressive? Sure. Was it easier to ignore him? Sure. Were you going to? Fuck no.

Somehow, Ms. Peregrine was loaded. As you'd actually been in stores before, you had free range over the shopping mall, and you took the opportunity to wonder what errand Ms. Peregrine and the younger kids were doing in devil's acre. It took Millard ages to explain how walking into Jacob's garden shed could shoot you out into what you now knew as devil's acre, but you felt like you were finally starting to fit into the peculiar world. Finally something caught your eye as you ambled absentmindedly through the mall. An emerald green dress, with lace detailing and a slim white belt. You wandered around until you found a pair of white heels, and after a brief moment of deliberation decided to top it all off with some lipstick. The clerk looked a bit shocked as you handed him a hundred dollar bill, but he just gave you the change and you walked back to the meet up point. Enoch, Emma, Jake, Bronwyn, and Horace all walked towards you, shopping bags in their hands. Emma and Bronwyn were beaming, Enoch was wearing his usual scowl, and Horace looked like he was about to be sick.

"What's up with him?"you ask Jacob.

"Something about the world is coming to an end when people wear jeans to a party."

"You really think they're ready to go to a party?"

"I think they'll be ready."

"Right." you say, trying not to sound sarcastic. You piled in the car, Horace still in a mood, Enoch still the personification of angst, and Emma and Bronwyn looking forward to being normal teenagers. One lesson on being normal at a party would not be enough, you suspected. Hopefully, everything would be fine.

It was time. You looked at yourself in the mirror with an air of confidence. You were fucking sexy. It was a bit shorter than what you'd normally wear, but that was the point, wasn't it? You walked down the staircase, being careful not to trip on the plush carpet in your heels ( which looked great, but frankly hurt) The moment he saw you, his jaw hit the floor. Maybe it was living in the 40's, maybe it was you, but seeing the look of frustration on his face gave you immense satisfaction. "Is everyone ready to go?" "Yeah, I think so. Hugh isn't coming." Jacob says, averting his eyes to the floor in front of him. For some reason, this makes Enoch even madder. "Can we just go already?" Enoch's attitude puts people on edge, and you regret teasing him if only for the awkwardness in the car. Still, you arrive at the party with the car buzzing with excitement. Bronwyn puts a dent in the car door when she closes it.

"I'm gonna drink punch and eat junk food and practice my American accent-"

"Please don't, love." Emma says with a hint of sympathy in her voice. As soon as everyone goes inside, Enoch grabs you by the wrist and tugs you into a corner.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing." he growls.

"What?" you say innocently.

"This!" he grabs your thigh where the dress ends, sending a shiver down your spine.

"And what am I supposed to do about this?!" He grinds his erection against you, stifling a moan as you push against him.

"Fuck, I don't know. I'm sure there's a bathroom somewhere." He leans into your ear, and his lips are so close to it could almost feel them.

"You started this. You're going to finish it as well." A bolt of warmth shoots through you at those words.

"Bathroom. Five minutes. Don't be late." and with that, he walks off. Emma flashes you a weird look across the room, but she doesn't come over to you. Horace is over by the punch looking incredibly uncomfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, and Bronwyn, much to your surprise, is in the middle of the dance floor, looking completely normal. Maybe nothing would go wrong after all. Five minutes had passed, you realised, looking at the clock past the pulsing crowd of people. You made your way aggravatingly slowly towards the bathrooms through the crowd, admitting to yourself that whatever this was, you needed it just as badly as he did.

"You're late." is all he says when you find him.

"So?" you mock. "So I said don't be late." he walks up to you and reaches around you to latch the bathroom door. Sparks shoot from your head down to your feet with his proximity.

"Maybe this was a mistake." you say, trying to weigh the potential consequences. You can feel his breath on your neck, his hands creeping towards the hem of your dress.

"With you, nothing is ever a mistake." It would have been sweet, save for the fact that he was undoubtedly refering to either your mouth or your genitals.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson." He whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

"I doubt it." He takes his mouth away from your neck and presses it firmly to your lips, rubbing his erection against your thigh. Suddenly, he convulses and then pulls away.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?" you say.

"You fucking shocked me!"

"Not on purpose I didn't. Besides, I haven't been able to properly use my ability since..." He gives you a look.

"Since what?"

"Since I zapped your little clay thing."

"Homunculus figure."

"Whatever." He pauses for a moment, then grins.

"Wait, so you're saying..." Annoyed, you push him off.

"That's it. If you act like a fucking prick all the time I'm worried I'm gonna accidentally burn this place to the ground." You reach for the door, but he grabs your wrist as you go to leave.

"Wait." And then, he kisses you. Somehow, something is different. Like this kiss isn't solely the byproduct of two horny teenagers making out in the bathroom at a crowded party. The world melts away around you, the noises dim, and all you are left with is him. His scent, his hands, his lips. And somehow, your feet leave the ground, and his do too, and all you can hear is your heartbeat and the faint crackle of electricity pulsing around you. And then you open your eyes, and you're back on the ground, and some semblance of normality returns. Enoch looks fairly shocked. "Bloody hell." "Yeah." The expression of surprise on Enoch's face quickly dissipates, and is replaced with an Enoch "I'm better than you™" smirk.

"Guess we're going to have to do that more often, huh?" Much to your dismay, you blush a little, which makes his smirk grow even wider.

"I should go check in on everyone, see if they're doing ok." he looks a little surprised, for some reason.

"O-ok." His grip on your wrist loosens, and you exit the bathroom, resolving to think about absolutely nothing until you're back in your own room. The party is plenty distracting, luckily, and after dancing a little with Bronwyn and Emma, eating some snacks, and trying to convince Horace the world isn't ending, it's finally time to pile back in the cramped car and drive back to the house, leaving the party with all of its occupants still alive. You take off the dress and decide to take a shower, where you mull over the night's events. Could Enoch be the solution to controlling your powers? Should you tell Ms. Peregrine what happened? Everything was so complicated. A little voice in your head spoke up. It doesn't have to be, the little voice said. You could just kiss him and screw the consequences.

"Shut up" you said to the little voice, and you went to bed with the kiss still lingering on your lips.


End file.
